Thursday, January 29, 2009

Quick hit: Obama signs fair-pay act

I love that President Obama made this the first piece of legislation he signed into law. I love the speech he made before the signing. I love the fact that we finally have a feminist president!

[By the way...Check out the line about some Republicans opposing the bill because they're worried about increased lawsuits - which makes sense - and "that employees could delay filing their claims in the hope of reaping bigger rewards." Huh? Who does that? Hey, I just found out I'm making $40,000 and all my male coworkers make $50,000. I could file a complaint now, but I think it would be more fun to wait 20 years and then spend tens of thousands of dollars on a lawsuit that I might not win. Seriously??? Did someone actually argue this?]

Quick hit: House passes stimulus bill

The House voted last night to pass President Obama's economic stimulus package, so now it's off to the Senate (which hopefully won't add too much stuff to it...It's already close to $900 billion). Not a single Republican representative voted for the bill. Not a big surprise there - they've been fairly open about the fact that they think the package should include more tax cuts and less new spending. (The version that passed is about one-third tax cuts and two-thirds spending.) I may not agree with their analysis, but at least I can respect that as a position.

But this?

Representative Virginia Foxx, Republican of North Carolina, said that former President George Bush’s signature tax cuts in 2001 had created years of growth but that the nation’s problems started when Democrats regained majorities in Congress in the 2006 elections.

Dear Virginia: ARE YOU FRAKKING ON CRACK???

Here's some U.S. Department of Labor stats on what those "years of growth" looked like for Foxx's home state. They call the exact span of time to which Foxx refers as "The worst 4-year losses since the 1930's." Huh.

You know, if I just disagreed with her, it would be one thing. I'd think of Foxx the same way I think of Senator Burr. But this woman is either a frakking idiot or she lives in an alternate reality.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Breaking News: Virginia Foxx has cable, and screw you if you don't

I swear. It's almost like the Republicans in the House of Representatives (including my favorite person in the entire world, Virginia Foxx) have a list of the most asinine, head-in-the-sand things they could possibly do, and they're just going down checking things off. How else do you explain this?

So, in 2005, Congress and the FCC all agree that TV transmissions need to be converted to digital signals, because it's cheaper and frees up air for emergency traffic. The deadline was set for Feb. 17, 2009, and the TV stations set out throwing up warnings on their Web sites and local broadcasts. Despite having $200 million to play with, the education campaign wasn't exactly clear for many Americans. (Define my "old" TV?) Basically, you're okay as long as you're not rocking rabbit ears. Time Warner's handling it for me, personally.

But something like 16 million Americans don't have cable, even basic, or a dish. They still rely on an antenna to beam the analog signal out of the air (or something...I learned this at some point in my communications major, but I didn't really care about any of it). This being a government operation, a chunk of money was set aside for people to apply for coupons that would pay most of the cost of a converter box. But of course not everyone who needed one knew about the program, some people let the coupons expire and couldn't get new ones - a classic federal clusterf*ck.

The FCC warned Congress earlier this year that the coupon program was out of money. That, and (in case you haven't noticed) the economy's mildly whacked right now. So new President Obama suggested that maybe forcing millions of Americans to go out and drop $60 on a converter box was a mite insensitive, and that the deadline for the big switch be pushed until June. The Senate voted unanimously to do so. An extra four months will give us time to sort this mess out, right?

But nope, here comes the House of Representatives. They're like the spoiled, whiny cousin you have to put up with every year at Christmas who wants to know how much everybody else's presents cost. If our federal government were all magically converted to the cast of "Lost," the House of Representatives would be that guy Arzt from Season One - you know, the incredibly annoying science teacher whom the gang had to let tag along to fetch dynamite from the spooky ship because he knew *just* more about it than they did, and who got blown up into tiny pieces and therefore wasn't even useful as food. You know that game that every office seems to play at Christmas, where everyone gets a number and you can either unwrap a new present or take somebody else's? And there's always some really sweet old lady in the office who happens to get this nice gift that she genuinely likes, and no one takes it from her even though they want to because that would be a douchebaggy thing to do? And then the very last person makes a big deal about looking over all the gifts, and then takes the nice old lady's present even though he doesn't really want it, just to be a dick? That's the House of Representatives. Turd in the punchbowl.

The vote broke down nearly on party lines, with only 22 Republicans voting for the delay. Virginia Foxx voted no. I would like you to remember that, if you're one of the many people living in the rural 5th District in places where the cable company is still afraid to go, and you wake up on Feb. 18 only to find a bunch of static where your grainy Matt Lauer used to be, that Virginia Foxx decided that wasn't a big deal. In 2010, when you're watching her soft-focus commercials about how much she fights for people like you (assuming you've got your TV working, that is), I want you to remember that Virginia Foxx voted not to make your life slightly easier. I'm not sure what she thinks her job is, exactly, if not that.......

My favorite part is that this is somehow President Obama's fault. He's not being "bipartisan" enough for the intractables who just told 16 million Americans to f*ck off. Okay, that makes no sense. A guy reaches across the aisle, you pull back your hands, suck your arms back up your sleeves and under your shirt, then climb on top of your desk, and then you complain 'cause he's still not holding your hand? I say again - turds in the punchbowl.

And for the record, this is not a "setback" for Obama or House Democrats. I'm fairly sure the White House has cable, or a dish. Hell, they probably even get the NFL Network! No, I'm afraid the only people that are "set back" here are the ones who - once again, as always - look to their government for leadership and find nothing but static.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Dead Celebrity Crush: Zebulon Vance

Zebulon Baird Vance (1830-1894)
If I ever have a son, one of my top-five name choices will be Zeb, in honor of this guy: self-made man, governor, orator and all-around 19th Century hottie. Zeb Vance represented North Carolina in Congress just before the Civil War, and was governor during the war and again during Reconstruction. He managed somehow to simultaneously support the Union and states’ rights, only resigning his Congressional seat when N.C. voted to secede from the U.S. after Fort Sumter.

But that’s not why I crush hard on Zeb Vance. It’s hard to explain…I kind of have a soft spot for the ol’ mountain boy who made good in the big city. Born near Asheville, he precociously wrote the UNC president to ask for a scholarship to its law school – which he got. Under his leadership, N.C. was the only Confederate state that didn’t suspend habeas corpus during the war (something even President Lincoln couldn’t manage). At one point during the war, he gave a speech in Salem, just blocks from where I live now, that lasted – no sh*t – four and a half hours, and no one left. Sure, he may look a little jowly with his mullet and porn ‘stache, but make no mistake – this guy was the 1860s answer to Bill Clinton.

After the war, he duly served his time in prison, being pardoned in 1867 (though he was never charged with anything). He was re-elected to Congress, though not allowed to serve because of the whole Confederacy thing. A few years later, he would defend Tom Dula (aka “Tom Dooley) in his murder trial. Sure, he lost…but I don’t really care.

It also doesn’t bother me that Zeb’s military career wasn’t exactly distinguished. In his book Covered With Glory, author Ron Gragg recounts the history of the 26th North Carolina, which lost almost all of its strength by the end of the Battle of Gettysburg. Zeb was the unit’s first commander, and was most noted for his recruiting ability and sense of when to retreat. But give him credit: Zeb had the honor to admit that he was better suited for the legislature than the battlefield, and left the military to men with better skills in that area. He was a lover, not a fighter. And, porn ‘stache or no, he makes me swoon.

Introducing the Dead Celebrity Crush

In this era of ever-present media, it’s possible to delude oneself into believing that it’s possible to really know that star of your favorite TV show, that athlete, that “American Idol” contestant who you just know you would have so much in common with, if you ever met. (And that’s how stalkers are born.) But the more mentally healthy of us recognize that what we read online or see of said celebrity in a five-minute “Daily Show” appearance doesn’t represent everything that person has going on. But escapism is fun, and that’s why God gave us celebrities.

Maybe I’m the only one, but I kind of feel like my generation’s crop of celebs is a bit lacking. Is it because we now have the tools to rip them apart before they can achieve that mythical, untouchable super-stardom? Or are the starlets upchucked by Entertainment Weekly, et al., really just a pale imitation of the past?

I have my celebrity crushes. But I have a great deal more invested in what I call my Dead Celebrity Crushes. Maybe the people on this list really did have more substance…or maybe they benefit from not having People magazine and TMZ camping out on their doorsteps. Maybe, like any good celebrity, they say more about who I am than about who they were.

I can’t begin to imagine how long this post would be if I listed all of them…so I’m just going to take them one at a time, in no particular order…

Mary Shelley (1797-1851)
Why do I love me some Mary Shelley? Let me count the ways. At age 21, she wrote one of the world’s great novels, Frankenstein, also one of the first of what we would recognize as a novel, period. (Between Shelley, Jane Austen and the Brontes, one could argue that women invented the modern novel. But I’ll leave that for an English major to handle.)

Her biography fascinates me…it would make such a great film if it weren’t for the fact that the last two-thirds of the movie would be either shamefully unrepresentative of her life, or just monumentally depressing. Shelley’s mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, wrote the brilliant feminist manifesto A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, then promptly died days after giving birth to her daughter. Mary herself married the Romantic poet and all-around man-whore Percy Bysshe Shelley, who may have cheated on Mary with her step-sister Claire. Then Percy drowned in 1822, leaving Mary with an infant son.

One biography I read posited that Mary, all her life, wanted the stability of a family that she never had in her own childhood. If so, boy, did she marry the wrong guy. Her post-Frankenstein novels haven’t gotten the same recognition as that first effort; in fact, some of them are difficult to find in print. It’s only in the last few decades that Mary Shelley, despite her brilliantly conceived first novel, has been given credit by the literary community as anything other than her husband’s editor.

So, was Mary Shelley a feminist before her time, undermined by the male establishment? Or was she just a girl who would’ve gladly traded in her writing skill for the proverbial white picket fence and 2.5 kids with Percy? I don’t know. If I ever run into her in the afterlife, I’ll ask her. Whatever the answer is, I feel like I would understand, and sympathize at least a little.

She may have died more than a century before even my own mother was born, but I feel a certain kinship to Mary Shelley. And, holy shizznit, did her little horror story keep me up at night.

Pic of the Week hits the road…

I actually started writing this late last summer, but never got around to posting it. Now, with it being the coldest weekend of the winter, I feel like I could use a little evocation of summer. And nothing makes me think “summer” like that great original American art form, the road picture. Not every film portraying travel is a true “road picture” – you’ve got to combine a physical journey with an emotional one.

“The Sugarland Express” (1974)
Who’s driving (and riding): Lou Dean (Goldie Hawn) and Clovis Poplin (the ass-hat TV reporter from “Die Hard”) and the cop they kidnap along the way
Actual miles: Unknown; From somewhere in Texas to Sugar Land, where Lou Dean and Clovis’s child has been placed in foster care.
What we learn: If you’re a pair of ex-cons trying to demonstrate to the authorities – especially in Texas – that you’re a responsible parent, taking a police officer hostage is probably not your best tactic. Also, Steven Spielberg’s pre-“Jaws” feature is really underrated.

“Thelma and Louise” (1991)
Who’s driving (and riding): The aforementioned Thelma (Geena Davis) and Louise (Susan Sarandon), both of whom earned Oscar nominations
Actual miles: Somewhere in Arkansas to the Grand Canyon, via Oklahoma, in a ’66 Thunderbird.
What we learn: The Law cares more about catching people who wax rapists than catching the rapists themselves. It’s possible for a film with two substantive, non-20-year-old female leads to earn both critical acclaim and box office success. Harvey Keitel can play a not-creepy character who does not at any point whip out his wang. That Brad Pitt guy (in his first big Hollywood role) might have something.

“Y tu mama tambien” (2001)
Who’s driving (and riding): horny teenagers Tenoch (Diego Luna) and Julio (Gael Garcia Bernal) and Tenoch’s suspiciously hedonistic cousin Luisa (Maribel Verdu)
Actual miles: Mexico City to a Boca de Cielo, a remote mythical beach on the Pacific shore
What we learn: If you are a horny teenage boy, and your insanely hot older female cousin volunteers to go on a road trip to a beach no one’s ever heard of, then proceeds to seduce you and your friend, it’s probably not because you’re a super-stud. Also, I frakking LOVE Alfonso Cuaron.

“Little Miss Sunshine” (2006)
Who’s driving (and riding): The mother of all dysfunctional families, including the unemployed suicidal gay Proust-scholar uncle, the emo mute brother, the barely holding it together parents, the pervert grandpa and the oblivious wannbe beauty queen daughter.
Actual miles: somewhere in California to somewhere else in California. It feels longer because they’re driving a VW bus (which tops out at like 50 m.p.h.) that’s dropped a gear, necessitating many comical roll-starts.
What we learn: how to roll start a VW bus. Lots about Proust (loved Steve Carrell). Random stuff about the job qualifications for the Air Force. And of course, that family is everything. Even really weird family.

“Badlands” (1973)
Who’s driving (and riding): Sissy Spacek and Martin Sheen, as teen lovers inspired by the real-life Starkweather murder spree.
Actual miles: All over the upper mid-west/Rockies area, because the irrational psychopath is driving, minus an interlude where director Terrance Malick explores the living-in-the-woods idyll he’d go back to with “The New World”.
What we learn: voice-overs can work when done right. If your in-charge boyfriend insists that you must use your only mode of transportation to crash into live cows for food in order to save ammunition, but then later shoots a football to deflate it, there might be something wrong with him. (Especially if he already killed your dad and burned down your house.)

“Smokey and the Bandit” (1977)
Who’s driving (and riding): Burt Reynolds as a latter-day bootlegger/cowboy, Sally Field as a runaway bride he picks up along the way and Jerry Reed as the trucker who really does the dirty work. (And also a dog.)
Actual miles: Georgia to the Arkansas line and back.
What we learn: Lots of CB radio slang. That Coors beer was once a delicacy. That the mid-70s anti-establishmentarianism (Southern redneck version) consisted of more than Lynyrd Skynyrd and Jimmy Carter’s election. And that despite having what Field called the worst script she’d ever read, a movie can be hellacious fun.

“Duel” (1971)
Who’s driving: Dennis Weaver as an anonymous, put-upon businessman in an uncharacteristically badass muscle car.
Actual miles: Again, somewhere in California to somewhere else in California, including numerous side trips to shake the psychotic trucker who dogs Weaver’s every move.
What we learn: Steven Spielberg – Knows. His. Shit.



A week later

I'm still not ready to talk about this.

And now this shit sandwich: Julius Peppers wants out.

"Waitress"

I’ve had “Waitress” on my Netflix queue for some time, but because I’ve been lazy I just got around to watching it today. I was expecting a frothy little flick – it got good reviews, Keri Russell was said to be good in it and my man Andy Griffith had a small role. Maybe it was because of my medium-low expectations, but I was kind of blown away. It’s a wonderful movie. But that’s not really what I wanted to say about it.

“Waitress” was one of a handful of movies released in 2007 whose plots centered on a woman with an unplanned pregnancy. “Knocked Up” and “Juno” got all the publicity, and “Juno” got all the awards, but in my opinion “Waitress” is superior to both of them. At the time, there was a lot of blogging and Web writing analyzing why supposedly lib'rul Hollywood would churn out so many films with a “pro-life” plot – women who barely consider the option of getting an abortion (if they do so at all). I think that misses the point on multiple levels. First of all, let’s just drop “Knocked Up” from the discussion altogether, since that film’s pregnancy was really only a device for that man-child twit Judd Apatow to explore the process of a man’s maturation. Honestly, watching that movie, I wondered if Apatow had ever encountered a single woman...seriously, like ever. And Juno does initially plan abortion, deciding later that she’d rather give her baby up for adoption. Neither plot bothers me, either as a feminist or as a screenwriter. For one thing, in both cases no pregnancy = no plot. For another, if I’m going to be pro-choice, then I have to accept that women have….wait for it…..choices.

How anyone could think that “Waitress” is anti-feminist right-wing propaganda is beyond me. You have a character (Russell) whose abusive husband takes her tip money, won’t let her have a car and who makes her swear that she won’t love the baby more than him. Jenna is a neon-flashing-sign depiction of the ways that traditional marriage and family roles trap too many women in this country. Unlike the Betty Friedan-in-The Feminine Mystique priveliged types we see so often in movies, who cheat on their husbands because they’re just so goshdarn booooooored, Jenna’s husband might actually kill her someday. (SPOILER ALERT) It’s her baby that gives her the strength and perspective to kick him once and for all and to strike out on her own. (The film doesn’t get into the post-leaving drama too much, other than showing us how a-hole hubby refuses to pay Jenna’s hospital bill. No restraining orders, shelters, draining divorce/custody battle…Maybe the jerk spontaneously combusted or something.)

I have this weird thing where I like to go back and read reviews after I’ve seen a film, and in one of them I noticed a reference to “the late” writer-director Adrienne Shelly (who also appears as Jenna’s friend Dawn). Not long before “Waitress” played at Sundance, a construction worker murdered Shelly in her office. I had no idea. When I read that, I felt all the emotions one feels when you learn about the death of someone you didn’t know, plus added anger that this writer-director that I’d just gotten all excited about wouldn’t be making anymore films. And I couldn’t help feeling an added sense of futility knowing that this filmmaker who’d so beautifully explored a dimension of patriarchal violence toward women was herself a victim of that violence. It just pisses me off.

Shelly’s family established a foundation that supports the work of other female writers and filmmakers – a brilliant tribute, I think. I felt a little better after learning that Shelly’s family turned a horrifying tragedy into an opportunity to advance other women. “Waitress” reaffirmed for me that we need more female filmmakers out there telling our stories. (‘Cause Judd Apatow sure as hell isn’t going to do it.)

And by the way, I LOVED Andy Griffith. All the acting was lovely, but he just makes the movie.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

WaPo names female managing editor

The Washington Post named two managing editors yesterday, one of them the first woman to hold that title in the paper's history, in an effort to speed the merger of the company's print and online newsrooms.

Why do I love the fact that it's the woman who'll be running the "hard news" sections of the paper, while it's the guy who'll be in charge of the style section?

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Like stupid? Thank a conservative.

This is the thing you need to understand about the people who leave comments on the articles at JournalNow.com. They’re not representative of the Journal’s readers, or of the population of Winston-Salem (thank goodness!) – they’re just the people with the free time during the day to leave misspelled and uninformed comments shot with a nasty streak. So I keep telling myself, anyway.

As luck would have it, there are a couple of Journal stories that I’ve happened to follow over the last week or so, and it seems like all of them attracted the ignorati set. First there was
a profile of my fellow Young Dem Ryan Eller, the minister who’s just been hired as executive director of the grassroots group CHANGE. Oops! “Change” and “community organization” are both terms that, for the mind-hobbits who patrol the Journal site, evoke the dreaded Barack Obama and the specter of “libruls”! Oh noes! CHANGE must be evil, Ryan is obviously a communist and libruls want big government who will steel yur babbez from the woom………..Sorry, I think I got hypnotized there for a moment.

Then today there’s an article
about the city council and Mayor Joines meeting with our state delegation about a legislative “wish list” for the year, which included making it easier for the city to buy and rehabilitate abandoned properties, which it could then re-sell to low-and-moderate income families. To re-cap: the city wants to be able to take houses that have been vacant for two years (currently either crackhouses, squatters’ dens or fire traps), make them livable again and sell them. The city gets taxable property back on the books. The neighborhood gets a permanent resident with an incentive to improve the property (because that person now owns it). The resident gets a home, which means equity, “good” debt and all those other economic-engine things.

Without such a program, this is what we have: abandoned property stays abandoned, because it’s too risky for an individual investor to go in and buy it up. The types of areas where this would be in effect aren’t the kind of place where there’s only one beat-up house. You’re talking about a mix of rental properties in various states of quality, long-term owners stressing over their property values and the aforementioned crackhouse/rat hotels. The neighborhood would continue to slide downhill. The city may not be fabulously wealthy, but it has the leverage to fix up at least some of these properties, and even to subsidize the sale prices if necessary (though I haven’t heard that suggested at this point). Who was it that said that homeownership was good for society? Oh, yeah…President Bush.

Nope. It’s socialist. Spending any public money on anything is socialist. Acknowledging that my actions might affect you, and yours me, is socialist. Admitting that I don’t live all by myself on a private island built from volcanic ash that I farted out of my own ass ‘cause I don’t need a handout from Mother Nature – socialist. When did a 19th-century economic theory become right-wing code for “Somebody, somewhere, is getting something that it wasn’t my idea to give them and I DON’T LIKE IT!”?

This paranoid victim-fetishism among a certain class of conservative non-thinkers doesn’t surprise me when it’s on the JournalNow comments section. But when it comes from people who should know better – like anyone who’s enough of an “expert” to make it onto a TV news show – it pisses me off.

For instance, Ann Coulter has a new book out. I could tell because of the recent uptick in news stories with headlines like “Ann Coulter says (fill in the blank) are (fill in the blank).” Anyway, the woman who whines that she’s being attacked every time someone asks her to defend one of her arguments has written an entire book about the liberal culture of victimization. A few things: first of all, I think that Coulter’s funny as hell when she’s being funny. When she tries to pretend to be a serious authority on social research (yet still hiding behind the “I’m just a comedian” defense), she gets on my nerves.

And there are certainly people involved in left-wing causes who refuse to take responsibility for anything in their lives – as someone who’s actually involved in those causes, I encounter them frequently. But this is where I leave off – the implication that not a single conservative ever indulges in the poor-pitiful-me routine, and the conflating of an explanation with an excuse, of compassion with moral weakness. Saying that a child in an inner-city school with 40 kids to a class whose mom works three jobs is not going to have the same opportunities that I had growing up isn’t victim-mongering – it’s fact.

Ann Coulter bugs me because she’s intelligent enough to know the difference between
saying that 70% of imprisoned criminals had single mothers and saying that 70% of children raised by single mothers will become prisoners, but she won’t share that difference with her readers. She’s probably also smart enough to understand the difference between “70% of murders/rapists/robbers, etc.” and “70% of the people actually arrested, prosecuted and imprisoned for murder, rape, robbery, etc.” – but acknowledging that difference might mean admitting that there are inequities in the system, and we can’t have that. (Right now I’m remembering all the times growing up when I was told that I was an idealist, and that I needed to be more realistc…..Yeah.)

Too many conservatives in this country have turned away from serious thinkers and toward pundits who twist facts and history to spew a self-serving narrative that makes them feel better by dividing “us” from “them.” For many years, I was frustrated by the number of allegedly progressive politicians who clung to outmoded liberal dogma. Progressives won the last election because we were able to start moving away from many of those ideas. If conservatives want to stay relevant in American policy, they need to do the same. Let go of the resentment and let’s find ways to advance our entire society, not just pieces of it.

(Unless you actually do live on a private island built from volcanic ash farted from your own ass. In which case, can Ann Coulter come live with you?)


UPDATE: Just in case you thought I was being too hard on the humble JournalNow posters, check out a comment left last night: " If they just keep fixing low income housing for the blacks and hispanics the cycle will keep going, 10 years from now the will be talking about redoing the houses again. " Ummmmmmm?????

Saturday, January 10, 2009

House approves fair pay bill, despite N.C. Republicans

When Congress devised the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act last year, President Bush told them that if it passed, he'd veto it. (Nice to know that gender discrimination is worthy of Bush's seldom-used veto power.) Now, with Bush on his way out, the House of Representatives passed a version of the bill.

The bill is named for Lilly Ledbetter, a female who learned after decades working as a supervisor at an auto plant that she was getting paid far less than her male counterparts. She sued, only to have no less than the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, John Roberts, tell her that her suit was rubbish because she should have filed it within 180 days of the initial decision to discriminate against her. Of course, the fact that she didn't frakking know about it didn't matter to Roberts, the captain of the Privilege Squad. It's perfectly fine with him that, if a company succeeds in hiding its unfair practices for a measly six months, the employee is for all time f*cked. (Dipshit.)

Anyway, the bill was designed to close that particular loophole. If signed into law, the 180-days thing won't apply; each paycheck will be considered a separate discriminatory act. This is a HUGE victory for American workers. Yes, of course it will be a pain for employers...Employers who discriminate against their workers, that is. Call me crazy, but I'm not losing sleep over that one.

The sad thing is that the vote came down on party lines; only three Republicans voted for the bill. Way to show that you're the party of the people, guys. Here's how the North Carolina delegation broke down:

Democrats — Butterfield, Y; Etheridge, Y; Kissell, Y; McIntyre, Y; Miller, Y; Price, Y; Shuler, Y; Watt, Y.
Republicans — Coble, N; Foxx, N; Jones, X; McHenry, N; Myrick, N.


Screw you, Virginia Foxx. Seriously, I hope your meanness causes some incurable form of pox that's not covered by your health insurance (which I pay for, by the way), and then when you die that God has your ass hauled off to a holding cell before you even make it to the Pearly Gates.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Stuff I need to get off my chest

First of all, a disclaimer. Sometime throughout December, the mild itchy patch on my neck (which I blamed on my scarf fetish) turned into an insane full-body rash so severe that I was having to get up three times a night to slather more Eucerin on it. It looked kind of like a puffy sunburn. So my doctor’s put me on a 13-day course of Prednisone – just to put that in perspective, the time that I woke up with my eyes swollen shut after a Bible School hay ride, I only got a seven-day course.

As much as I love how Prednisone works so quickly to knock my over-reactive allergen responses back into line, I HATE the side-effects. Increased appetite (like I need that!), insomnia and what the pharmacy warning label euphemistically refers to as “irrational euphoria.” Translation: if ever in my life I skip off to Vegas to marry a tantric biker that I’ve just met (or something), most likely there will be oral steroids involved.

I bring it up because, if I should seem a little…forceful…in the next two weeks or so, that could be why. Knowing that this is how the medicine makes me react, I try to preemptively avoid any obvious stressors. Unfortunately, that’s not so easy to do these days.

Since I’m all irrationally euphoric, I’ll go ahead and jump on what Jon Stewart called the new “third rail” of American politics – Israel, WTF??? American politicians who refuse to tell our friend, our ally, to stop frakking bombing U.N. schools and preventing the Red Cross from getting to injured children – WTF??? See, I have this friend, one of those friends that is my friend because we’ve always been friends. We’d walk through fire for one another. But when she does something I think is stupid or self-destructive, I tell her so as gently as I can. A true friend doesn’t kiss your ass – he or she tells you when you’ve crossed the line.

So, I’ll go where apparently no one in our national government is willing to go: Israel, you’re being a dick. In 60 years, you haven’t been able to convince Islamic extremists to stop trying to kill you by using military means; what makes you think missiles will magically start working now? All you’ve done this week in Gaza is create another generation or two of suicide bombers who, thanks to our spineless government, are going to come after us, too. And for the American politicians in both parties, shame on you for your knee-jerk approval of anything and everything Israel does, no matter how heinous. While I’m at it, shame on the media for not pushing these guys harder.

The national media have also been shamelessly slow to get to the news of the coal-ash spill outside of Knoxville, Tenn., right before Christmas. (The New York Times finally covered it this week.) Quick question: if some power plant dumped tons of toxic industrial sludge over 400 acres in, say, Long Island or Southern California, how many Anderson Coopers would still be on-site three weeks later? How many news magazine covers would it hit? But no, it’s only rural Appalachia, so the media brain trust has determined that the search for the Obama’s pet dog is infinitely more important.

The national press was also slow on the news that a Bay Area Transit Authority police officer shot and killed an unarmed man on New Year’s Eve, news that CNN discovered just yesterday. The Oakland DA is investigating, but fortunately we have cell-phone video of the entire incident. BART police detain Oscar Grant and his friends in a train station, and then you can clearly see one officer push Grant to the ground, kneel on his back and then a few seconds later pull his gun and shoot Grant in the back. Also this week, a Texas police officer shot Robbie Tolan in his own driveway.

In both cases, the victims were black and the officers white. Is the media soft-pedaling these stories because they go against the narrative that Barack Obama’s election defeated American racism? And they are soft-pedaling. While the Bay Area media is all over the Grant case, neither story has been reported with any thoroughness. The CNN story on Tolan is particularly frustrating. It suffers from that inverted-pyramid/don’t report the questions if you don’t have the answers-style of writing that drives me batshit crazy. Dear reporter, here are some questions for you: Was the officer in fact hiding in Tolan’s bushes, or did he follow him from wherever he was driving into his neighborhood? Once Tolan’s family came out of the house, wasn’t it clear to the officer that this suspected thief frakking lived there???

As pissed as I am at the press in both the Grant and Tolan shootings, I’m even more furious with the police. I LOVE cops. Every police officer I’ve ever dealt with personally has been courteous and professional, and I have enormous respect for the work they do, and the dangers they face. But how do these officers think they can do their jobs when the people they’re sworn to protect have learned to fear them? Every officer knows that you only pull your weapon if you’re prepared to use it. In other words, if a situation isn’t severe enough to shoot someone, then don’t even take the gun from its holster. That’s why most police officers go their entire careers without firing their weapons outside of a shooting range. There is nothing that either Grant or Tolan could have said or done short of pulling a weapon themselves to excuse what these officers did. They’ve just made it harder on everyone else who wears a uniform.

I’m pissed, I’m in a throw-the-book-at-them mood, and I’m not sure the ‘roid rage is entirely to blame…